by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Language: English 
Available translation(s): ITA
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
To the last syllable of recorded time; 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
And then is heard no more; it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2008-02-28 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:38
Line count: 10
Word count: 75